


Arctangent

by WriterIsNinja



Category: Bleach, Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Issues, BAMF Maria Stark, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Character Study, Child Neglect, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Maria Tries (She's Just Bad At It), Past Child Abuse, Sentinel/Guide, Slow To Update, Spies & Secret Agents, These are hollows people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterIsNinja/pseuds/WriterIsNinja
Summary: His name was Tony once, but the Arc Reactor... it could power his heart for fifty lifetimes – or something big for fifteen minutes. He used it for seventeen getting his vengeance (didn't conserve his energy) and died in the desert.These days he goes by Starrk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the crown of it was fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816303) by [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat). 



  _noun:_ **arctangent**

  1. a mathematical function that is the inverse of the tangent function.



            Tony becomes _more_ within two weeks of his death, spiritual pressure killing the lesser Hollows that come near him instantly (waste not want not, he _eats_ /”If you’ve a hole in your life, el cariño, food won’t fill it.”). Those it doesn’t? His empathy sends running. He’d never had the best handle on his Guide abilities, shields dropping intermittently due to Howard’s ‘training’ to weaponize it, but _now_? Now he projects _constantly_ , unable to be contained for the sheer power. The few he’d met that could stand his reiatsu for a short while had said that the empathy was like a slow handsaw to the brain, dragging at the soft squishy bits. The short time frame between death and functionality is probably why he recalls so much so clearly; sometimes he wishes he didn’t.

            His name was Tony once, but the Arc Reactor… it could power his heart for fifty lifetimes – or something big for fifteen minutes. He used it for seventeen getting his vengeance (didn't conserve his energy) and died in the desert.

            These days he goes by Starrk.


	2. Chapter 2

            Among those few who were aware that Tony could shoot (“Stay down!”/“Wait, wait _give me a gun_!”), most thought he had been taught by Howard or Aunt Peggy; this was blatantly unrealistic. Peggy had been tremendously busy with whatever the fuck she did in the Cold War, and Howard couldn’t spare the time to piss on Tony if he were on fire if he wasn’t drunk, and when he _was_ only spared the time to backhand him before going back to inventing cold weather gear for his Arctic trips. No, Tony had learned how to shoot from his mamá, but first he had been taught to _forge_ one out of both scrap metal and ceramic (in a kiln).

            Starrk wasn’t bad with a knife, but he wasn’t surprised that his weapons were guns, no; it was more due to familiarity and fondness that he wielded them so well, although he _did_ have to wonder what it said about his personality that his weapons were something far less personal than the swords and knives most of these assholes were flinging about. Mamá had favored _extremely_ illegal daggers with jagged edges and hook in them, choosing a close-in personal kill when she could and throwing knives when she couldn’t afford to get closer. (Hey, do you _know_ how many people wanted the Stark Heir dead after Obie put his face on a magazine cover at age four?)

            Starrk didn’t really mind the endless night, but there wasn’t much to do in Hueco Mundo but katas and long-range target practice in the Forest of Menos. And naps: he may have napped a lot, or designed shit in his head. It wasn’t like there was anyone to talk to.

            He missed Rhodey, and Obie, and Happy and Pepper (he hoped those two had gotten together finally). It was… lonely… here. At least everyone spoke some Spanish as well as Japanese, though; you could sometimes hear the babble of Arrancar "cities" in the distance, and though Starrk couldn't get close lest he wipe out a village his mother's mother tongue tasted tumbling on his lips like her spicy orange and clove perfume.

            He may not have gone to the good place (no surprise there), but at least the _bad_ place had reminders of good things - and he wasn't lower down. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

            Starrk is an inventor and engineer before everything, but a businessman second; he knows a schemer when he sees one, and it’s not like Aizen-san can hide from his Guide senses even if he can somehow stand the reiatsu. He also seems to realize that Starrk doesn’t _care_ what he’s up to so long as he finally gets rid of the maddening silence of Hueco Mundo. (Lilynette may be a chatterbox, but she’s also part of _him_. Fuck, he’d never thought he’d have a kid, which is what it amounts to.) Since Aizen-san likes to listen to himself talk, this works out rather well, all told (even if he naps through the less important shit). Still, doesn’t mean he buys the bullshit. Look, Tony may _know_ soldiers, but he’s _not_ one, okay? He’ll play sniper in return for the company and just plain something to _do_ , but he’s not going _looking_ for a fight, which is what Aizen seems to want; that’s how genius preteens in high school get _beaten to death_.

            But really, having worked with Obadiah? He’s used to power-hungry assholes (he may like the guy, but there’s no denying Obie’s as much an asshole as Starrk is, just a Hell of a lot more responsible). Aizen either doesn’t know how or doesn’t care to help more with the reiatsu problem (likely the latter), but at least he’s _company_. Szayel too, though he’s more into the squishy sciences and Starrk doesn’t have much of an opinion on the guy except ‘sorta creepy’ and ‘don’t want to drive any _more_ insane via empathic projection’.

            Grimmjow’s just fucking _exhausting_. Why he can’t just leave running shit to Harribel-san like Starrk does instead of trying to climb the ranks he can’t even _imagine_. It’s not exactly pretty at the top, which neither Aizen-san nor Grimmjow seem to get. Actually it’s a fuck-ton of _work_ , _paperwork_ to be specific, and while Aizen-san might not mind that to see through his goals, the cat _would_ , he bitches to Lilynette. Why can't he leave Starrk _alone_?

            Sorta weird that now he has company, all Starrk wants is to be left to his own devices by these assholes. He should probably get better friends – would if he could.


	4. Chapter 4

 

            Kido is absolute magic bullshit where the words don’t matter as long as they shape the desired outcome properly, going with what _feels_ right in your fucking _head_ (the releases don’t make _sense_ ), but it’s sort of like coding in multiple languages too. There’s math to it, and schematics to draw, and you can absolutely use shorthand and slang if you can’t afford the time to build up the power output. They also explode if overpowered for the matrices you’ve written, which was initially frustrating but now just fun; no one blinks if there’s an explosion in the distant sands to hear Lilynette cackling, and it’s helping him reign in his reiatsu a little bit too. Of course, he’s incapable of anything under an 80s hado still, but progress is progress.

            His heart may be gone, but he misses JARVIS and the bots like the literal hole in his chest where the arc reactor used to be (that sometimes glows slightly blue around the edges still). It’s like open-heart surgery without being under anesthetic – and Starrk would _know_. But kido is both coding and engineering, and he _is_ going to figure out how to make an AI with it. Not a mod soul, but an AI.

            Well, he’s already got the one daughter. Why not try for a second?

             He's always liked mouthy little shits.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hollow hunting, Quincy-san?” Starrk smirked slightly.

            This woman smells like woodsmoke and sunlight and the crisp air of the seaside, and all of a sudden he’s less worried about the arrow than grasping the fading memory of campfires on the beach in Malibu and the tint of red to her hair with an aching sort of fondness. But Lilynette is sleeping behind him, so God-damned _exhausted_ since he’d almost lost her; Starrk couldn’t allow the Quincy to pass.

            She blinked a little, overwhelmed by his grim determination (very literally) for a moment, and lowered her bow, though obviously she remained ready to draw.

“Guide,” she greeted, then murmured, “Hiding, actually.” Louder: “I felt your reiatsu.”

            It was in the way each minute shift put her slightly denser musculature at the ready, looking deliberately relaxed in a manner that was only ever _trained_ in (and only assassins, abused kids, and her lot did that by habit, as a general rule/”If you tense they know you’re ready for them; if you tense up it hurts more,” he vaguely recalls Mamá explaining to a younger Uncle Marcus before the eye patch).

“Curiosity isn’t the best trait to have in Hueco Mundo,” Starrk pointed out without threat, “… _Sentinel_.”

            Acknowledgment given, she slung the bow (crossbow, actually) over her shoulder and sheathed the arrow, holding out a hand, drawing in more reishi first so as to not be harmed by touching him directly. Somewhat warily, Starrk shook it.

“Fujikawa Rumiko.”

“Starrk.” A pause. “Hiding? Well, Hueco Mundo is a good place for that, although I’ll warn you now that the Forest of Menos is _literally a forest of Menos_. I don’t recommend it, Quincy-san.”

“Fishing,” she snorted, grinning faintly. “Thought you said curiosity was a bad thing?”

“Well, it kills more than cats here,” Starrk shrugged. “Never claimed to have good instincts.”

            Fujikawa-san chuckled, then sobered.

“You should know that Yhwach is stealing the power and lives of impure Quincy and any who refuse to join him, and he’s no love for Arrancar, Starrk-san. If you see the Auswählen about….”

“I’m fine with avoiding more war,” he shrugged, absently rubbing the stitch in his side.

“ _More_?” she blinked.

“Ah, so the Quincy haven’t heard about the recent turmoil between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society,” he nodded. “We got sick of them invading us, though they’d stopped for a decade or thereabouts, so we backed one of their traitors and invaded in turn for once. Also lost,” he snorted. “Not due to lack of power, mind; our leader just got sloppy with the planning at the end there. Power trip.”

“Well the upper ranks might be aware, but not those who joined under duress like myself and Otosan,” Fujikawa shrugged. “Not like the Shinigami are _my_ friends either.”

            Starrk snorted. Understatement; they wiped out anyone who was different, or tried to.

“There’s an Arrancar village seven clicks East of here, if you feel like company. Ask for Tier Harribel.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” she teased.

            It was… very nice, talking to someone who wasn’t trying to kill, use, or fight him.

“Not at all,” Starrk smiled.

 


	6. Chapter 6

            Starrk closes his eyes, pained. Fujikawa-san reminds him of Aunt Janet a bit. Not as bubbly, of course, but forcibly optimistic and cheerful even when it hurt to be.

_“When I grow up, will you marry me?”_

_“I’m already married, sweetheart,” Jan had smiled in amusement._

_“That’s what divorce is for.”_

_Aunt Jan and Mamá burst out laughing._

“Smile though your heart is breaking; smile even though it’s aching…” he hummed under his breath.

“What?” Fujikawa-san looked up from the sand-fire. (Kido was good like that, and deserts were frigid at night. Since it was _always_ night….)

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

            Lilynette (groggily) stirred.

            _This should be interesting._


	7. Chapter 7

            Starrk flares his reiatsu automatically when the Menos comes sniffing about at about twenty-five feet, dropping it dead. Unfortunately, Fujikawa-san doubles over and throws up in the same instant.

“Shit, sorry!” he got under control what he could. “Reflex. Last thing you need right now is Hollow-reiatsu poisoning.”

“It’s fine,” she croaked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Not near enough to kill me. Go into my pack and grab the gum from the side pocket?”

            Starrk feels awful. He hadn’t met many Quincy, had honestly forgotten about that reaction. He gets the gum and a handkerchief both, dabbing at her sweat-dotted forehead as she breathed heavily, peppermint soothing her stomach.

“I apologize, Fujikawa-san,” he bowed. “I didn’t intend to harm you, but if you’d like to leave for Sunsweet Village to assure it doesn’t happen again….”

            Not that he’d enjoy it just being him and Lilynette again. He loved the too-energetic little hothead, but she couldn’t exactly give him adult conversation.

            Fujikawa shook her head with a small smile.

“I’m fine here.”


	8. Chapter 8

_“Edwin, have you seen my stilettos?” her voice echoed down the hall._

_“Which ones, ma’am? The weapons or the shoes?”_

_“The shoes that **are** weapons,” Tony remembered her saying. “I’m doing some freelance for Peggy at that political brunch – Governor Stern’s wife is his driving force – and need a backup weapon in case she catches onto the cyanide in those almond cookies she loves.” _

_“Ah. Those are in the armory beyond the saferoom, ma’am. You’re not taking Young Sir, I hope?”_

_“No, no – your Ana volunteered to watch him today,” though she didn’t seem upset by the questioning._

_“Of course, ma’am; I shouldn’t have doubted,” Jarvis seemed apologetic._

_“No offense taken, Edwin,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “Assassins don’t make for the best or most moral of mothers, so I can see why you’d think it,” Maria had conceded._

_“Please don’t come back poisoned yourself, ma’am,” Jarvis fretted._

_“I have to eat at least one,” she pointed out, “but I’ll drink milk after to expel it.”_

            Neither were aware that Ana had been teaching him Hungarian.


	9. Chapter 9

_“You are fired,” Mamá had told the man in a soft manner that sent chills up Tony’s spine._

_“Mrs. Stark –” he’d begun to protest, pompous and officious._

_“That is **not** turning my son into a War Guide; that is **gaslighting** ,” she barked, cold. “You will leave my home immediately, and **do** expect that I’ll be spreading word amongst the military industrial complex. Now see yourself out.”_

_She knelt in front of her son, ignoring the man completely as he sputtered and finally left, wiping away the confused tears with the pads of her thumbs._

_“Mamá will teach you the psychology you’ll need from now on, querido, and I hear Dottie Underwood is still in the mercenary business; if I can get ahold of her, she’d be perfect to teach you War Guide Tactics. Now let’s go make cookies, hm? That should cheer you up.”_

_“Peanut butter cookies with chocolate?” Tony whispered._

_“Hershey’s kisses or fudge on top?” she asked seriously. “Fudge takes longer.”_

_“Fudge!”_


	10. Chapter 10

            _He backhanded her across the face. Mamá rocked with the motion._

_“ **And?** Is that supposed to intimidate me, Howard?” she’d demanded. “Madre de Dios, I’m an assassin, not that anyone would believe it if you want to go the blackmail route,” she laughed. “That’s not going to do **anything**. You don’t raise our son, Howard; **I** do. You want to make decisions about his life? Start participating in it. So no, our eight-year-old is **not** going to some prissy Guide Debutante boarding school or military academy; I’ve already arranged for private tutors and better socialization than either of us have. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have your PR Department and a charity foundation to run, and dinner with Janet and Hope, and now I need a layer of foundation first. Come along, Anthony.”_

_"Frigid bitch," Howard had muttered._


	11. Chapter 11

            Aunt Jan had never had a head for names; she’d called everyone pet names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’. People felt special when she did that, never knowing that she’d completely forgotten who they were. It was how he’d picked up nicknaming people (like Platypus and Happy and Pep). Fujikawa-san was… much the same, he suspected. Starrk was fairly certain she hadn’t used his or Lilynette’s names **once** in the two weeks he’d known her.

            There was a pained furrow to her brow.

“You know you can wander off if my empathy is giving you a headache, right?” he worried.

“Stop fussing,” she snorted. “If I need to leave for a while I’ll just _do it_. All you are right now is bored. That may be maddening to _you_ , but _I_ like the downtime. Now go work on your Artificial Intelligence kido or something,” she waved him off, Lilynette snickering at what she termed ‘Mom Voice’ being used on a grown man.

            Starrk shook his head, smiling, and took off for the wide expanse where he’d set up a kido lab during the Winter War. No need to go about blowing up friendly Quincies, after all.


End file.
